


being far apart (is made for brushing teeth and tangerines)

by TheBoyWhoWalksInTheLight



Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Finding Mark, Getting Together, Joanie loves her little brother, Kissing, and Mark loves his big sister, there's love all round really, they all need some love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 21:29:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8594473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBoyWhoWalksInTheLight/pseuds/TheBoyWhoWalksInTheLight
Summary: The night is eerily still. As if it’s waiting for something to happen. Or whatever, doesn’t matter. Wishful thinking.
She can do this. She can find Mark. She has to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I haven't written fic in a while but there's nothing better to motivate me to write than a distinct lack of fic that suits my very specific desires. So . . . yeah. Hopefully it appeals to someone else too?
> 
> Title is from (surprise, surprise) 'Brushing Teeth and Tangerines' by the lovely Tessa Violet. Please go and check her out.
> 
> Let me know what you think (comments make my day a zillion times better). Please enjoy :)

 

 

Sam is . . . exhausted, frankly. Two months of searching is starting to take its toll. She’s been driving all day. Who even knows where she is at the moment, all the state signs started blurring together after a while. Not that it matters all that much.

 

She sighs quietly; the sheer vastness of land she is yet to cover is overwhelming.

 

Finally, the lights of a motel rise up from the road. It looks run down and unloved, the ‘v’ in ‘vacancy’ flickers on and off. But . . . beds. And pillows, and sleep and – Sam jerks the wheel to correct the direction of her car. _Shit_ – she can’t afford to do things like fall asleep at the wheel, she could cause another accident. She could hurt someo—no stop. She shakes herself, adrenaline now coursing through her veins.

 

But she smiles a little, cause she’s still here. She didn’t spontaneously disappear. That’s . . . something. Progress.

 

Sam pulls into the car park and cuts the engine. The night is eerily still. As if it’s waiting for something to happen. Or whatever, doesn’t matter. Wishful thinking.

 

There’s a man on the first floor leaning heavily on the balcony railing. Something about his stance reminds her of Mark. Speaking of wishful thinking. But the lights behind him leave his face in shadow and Sam tells herself that it can’t be true. She’s not that lucky.

 

She scrubs her eyes over her face. She can do this. She can find Mark. She has to. For Joan, for herself. Hell, for Mark. He certainly doesn’t deserve to be held captive by some evil atypical. Okay, maybe not necessarily evil. But definitely incredibly selfish. And _creepy_.

 

Right. Okay. Bed. Tomorrow’s another day. But she has to sleep first or she’ll – she’s not sure. Self-combust? Break down and cry more likely.

 

_Okay,_ she takes a deep breath. _Sam – Samantha. Get out of the car. Rent a room. Go to bed. It will be less overwhelming in the morning. Hey, you could even call Chloe in the morning. That’ll be nice, right?_

 

She forces herself out of the car and to the main building to get a key. _Tomorrow’s another day._

 

\--

Sam trudges up the stairs. She should really stay somewhere a bit nicer for at least one night, she thinks. You know, actually get a decent sleep? _Oh well, another day._

 

Her head feels filled with helium but a heavy weight sits on her chest, keeping her grounded, keeping her aware of her mission. Preventing her from floating away.

 

The balcony man still stands where he was, looking out into the night. An immense sigh is torn from his lungs as he pushes away from the railing. And starts . . . limping towards his room, his face pointed to the ground. But he looks so much like Mark. Without the clothes from the eighteen-hundreds of course. It’s just – it can’t be him. Not by such chance. Sam isn’t that lucky. Except –

 

‘Mark?’

 

His face snaps up towards her, lit up by disbelief.

 

‘ _Sam?_ ’

 

They’re both frozen in disbelief for a moment. Until Sam, all her exhaustion forgotten, runs towards him. She stops, inches away, as if held apart by an imaginary force field. But Mark, he splinters through it, enveloping Sam in an embrace.

 

‘It’s you. It’s you. You’re here. You’re really, really here.’ She’s blubbering, she knows. But she doesn’t really care. It’s okay. Mark’s blubbering a little bit too.

 

And his smile is devastating. She breaks. Not like the shattering of glass but like the crashing of a wave. Tumbling and falling but then smoothing into fractures of light.

 

‘You’re real,’ he says wondrously. ‘I mean – I knew you were real. But It’s nice to know I’m not, I don’t know, crazy or anything.’

 

‘I’m real,’ she promises. ‘I’m here.’

 

Sam sobers up suddenly, resolving back into a person. ‘Where’s Damien?’ Her heart taps insistently on her rib cage, trying to get out.

 

Mark’s face opens up in surprise. ‘You know him?’

 

‘Well, I mean I’ve never met him; Joan would never let him near me if she had any say in it.’

 

‘Hang on. You know my _sister_?’ A crinkle forms between his eyebrows.

 

‘Yeah – I – She goes by Doctor Bright. That’s who I was talking about when I was rescuing you. I didn’t realise it was a code name. She’s been . . . trying to save you for years. Your sister loves you, y’know.’

 

Understanding chased across Mark’s face. ‘Then Damien – ‘

 

‘Lied to you. Yeah.’

 

‘Oh.’

 

‘Where is he?’ Sam asks insistently.

 

‘He went to get some food a little while ago.’

 

‘Then we need to _go._ Like, now.’

 

‘Okay, okay. Let’s go. It’s just I – ‘he sighs. ‘I can’t move very fast. Yet. I’m working on it.’

 

‘That’s okay. I’ll help you.’

 

\--

They’re ripping out of the car park just as Damien’s van pulls in.

 

‘Oh shit,’ Mark says. ‘Go, _go_. That’s him.’

 

And they’re gone. Just like that.

 

\--

They’ve been driving a while before Mark finally talks again.

 

‘You’re driving.’

 

‘Yeah,’ Sam shrugs, ‘I had to find you somehow.’

 

Mark turns in his seat to look at her closely. ‘You’ve been looking for me this whole time?’

 

‘Well, yeah. It’s not like I’m just gonna let Damien walk away with you.’

 

Mark nods and turns back to the road.

 

‘So . . . how do _you_ know Joanie?’ It’s a serious question, but the music in his voice makes it playful.

 

‘She’s my therapist. Well, I mean, kinda. I – um – I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about her earlier. It’s just . . . I didn’t tell you initially and then it just got harder and harder to tell you.’ Sam can feel her face burning, ‘And I – uh – wanted you to like me for me, not the fact that I could get you out of there or that I was connected to your sister or whatever. ‘Cause I – um, I really like you.’

 

Mark nods again. ‘Sam?’

 

‘Yeah?’

 

‘Pull over?’

 

‘What. Why?’

 

‘Just – ‘But she’s already pulling over.

 

‘What’s wrong? Are you okay? I can cal-‘

 

‘Let me know if I’m out of line,’ he says, running his thumb back and forth along the red gradually suffusing her cheeks. And he moves _closerclosercloser_ until they’re just a hair’s breadth apart.

 

‘Oh,’ Sam breathes.

 

Their lips touch gently, tenderly. She’s filled with a sense of euphoria. As if the world stopped spinning on its axis just for them. As if they were the last two people at the end of the earth. She feels the sun expanding in her chest, threatening explosion.

 

Mark moves closer, deepening the kiss in a way that makes Sam curl her toes. Her hands rest on his chest, gathering the fabric of his shirt in her fists. Mark’s fingers lace through her hair while the other hand cups her jaw. Her whole body buzzes and she feels her heart beating in her lips, her hands.

 

After a minute or two – or maybe an hour, a couple days; Sam’s not really sure, she’s too giddy – Mark pulls away with a wince.

 

‘Sorry. I’m just – not entirely recovered.’

 

‘Oh! Sorry I – ‘

 

‘No, it’s fine,’ he smiles. ‘It was worth it.’

 

Sam feels a flush move up her face. ‘Good.’

 

And Sam looks at him. And looks and looks and looks. Because he’s here.

 

And she touches him. Along the bridge of his nose, the crest of his cheekbones, the curl of his lips. Because she can. She can, she can, she can. She can finally touch him.

 

Mark closes his eyes under her exploring fingertips. He breathes in . . .2 . . .3. And out . . .2 . . .3. Content, relieved . . . _happy._

 

‘Sam,’ he whispers, soft and tender.

 

‘ _Mark_ ,’ she whispers back. Soft too but teasing a bit.

 

‘I – ‘

 

A realisation drops on her head like a stack of bricks. ‘Oh! We should call Joan. She’ll be thrilled. I mean, she’s been trying to get you out of the AM for years. I mean, if that’s okay with you.’

 

Mark laughs a little, ‘Yeah, I – I miss Joanie. It’s been a while.’

 

\--

 

‘ _Sam? What’s wrong? Are you okay?’_

 

_‘_ Yeah, Joan. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?’

 

‘ _It’s **two am**_.’

 

‘Oh. Sorry, Joan. I didn’t mean to wake you.’

 

‘ _No it’s fine. I wasn’t sleeping well anyway_.’

 

‘Um, so I, um . . . found him?’

 

‘ _You WHAT? Where is he? Is he safe? What did Damien do to him?’_

 

‘He’s right here. Let me put you on.’

 

Sam passes the phone to Mark, smiles splitting both of their faces.

 

‘Hi, Joanie.’

 

‘ _Mark?_ ’

 

‘It’s me, Joanie.’

 

‘ _I love you, Mark._ ’ She says it like she’s been aching for it. Like she thought she would never say it again.

 

‘I love you too, Joan.’

 

The air almost shatters with the collective force of everyone’s grins.

 

_Good,_ Sam thinks. _This is good. This is how it’s meant to be._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> That's it! Let me know if you spot any little errors. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and have a great day (or night)!


End file.
